


Rainy Nights on Street Corners

by fairychangeling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Bottom Castiel, Castiel Acts Like Endverse Castiel, M/M, Police Officer Dean, Prostitute Castiel, Prostitution, Protective Dean Winchester, Short One Shot, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 05:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairychangeling/pseuds/fairychangeling
Summary: Dean hopes that rainy nights on street corners aren’t all they’ve got.





	Rainy Nights on Street Corners

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my tumblr about three years ago. It's been a pretty popular short story, so I figured it deserved to live as a stand-alone on A03.

Cas’s expression is pathetic.

It says “ _Take me home and look after me_ ”.

He looks miserable, his collar turned up and jacket pulled tight across his chest, trying to shield himself from the rain. Even with everything Dean knows about him, he still finds himself pulling up to the curb and rolling down his window.

Castiel looks elated, but his face falls as he peers inside and sees Dean.

“What are you doing out on a night like this, Cas?” Dean asks him impatiently.

“Just looking for someone to give me a ride,” Castiel says. He shivers and Dean realizes he must be soaked through.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to be out cruising on a night like this,” he says.  

“Are you going to arrest me?” Castiel asks. Dean doesn’t know if Castiel wants him to. A night in the dry cells might be preferable to standing on his corner in the pouring rain.

Dean shakes his head and leans across, opening the car door.

“Get in,” he says. “Try not to drip on the upholstery if you can help it.”

Castiel slides into the passenger seat, hunching up.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“My place,” Dean says, indicating to turn back into the late night traffic. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“It’s been a slow day,” Castiel mutters.

Dean turns the hot air on full. It’s stifling for him but he knows Castiel will appreciate it. By the time they get to Dean’s apartment, Castiel is almost dry. Dean still sends him to shower while he makes them dinner. Even if Castiel protests, he needs a good wash. Dean lays out clothes for him, some warm faded old pyjamas. He’s nearly finished making dinner when Castiel pads into the kitchen. The pyjamas are too big on him. He’s swimming in them.

Dean tries not to find it adorable. Castiel isn’t adorable. He’s trouble.

He sets Castiel’s meal in front of him and watches appreciatively as Castiel devours it.  

“Why don’t you take better care of yourself, Cas?” he asks.

Castiel looks up at him, licking a little sauce from the corner of his lips.

“Because there are soft men like you, Detective Winchester, to do it for me.”

They have sex. They always have sex. Dean used to resist, used to tell Castiel that he could lose his badge but Castiel just wiggles out of those too-big pyjama pants and into Dean’s lap. Dean makes sure the sex is slow, loving. He kisses every inch of Castiel’s body, works his fingers slowly up inside Castiel and makes him come, crooks his fingers till Castiel is gasping. He sucks him off, makes him come for a second time before he even thinks about fucking Cas.

Cas whines and whimpers, not used to anyone bothering to take so much care with him. He tells Dean he doesn’t need to be stretched, that Dean can just fuck him because he can take it and maybe he can, but Dean would never do that to him. When he slides inside Castiel there’s no resistance. Castiel opens up to him, moaning and he only gets louder as Dean fucks him.

Castiel is completely boneless, a mass of pleasure, oversensitive from three orgasms and fucked out when Dean’s finished with him.

He smiles up at Dean and draws him down for a long slow kiss.

It makes Dean’s heart skip a beat.

The rain keeps beating furiously against the window and Dean hopes that it will keep raining. He hopes that when he wakes up tomorrow he finds Castiel in his kitchen, rifling through his fridge, still wearing Dean’s old clothes.

He’s woken up too many times to find Castiel gone in the morning.

It’s the oldest cliché in the book – a cop in love with a whore, but Dean’s gone and fallen for Castiel, so if Castiel leaves again he’ll just keep going back to find him.  

Dean hopes that rainy nights on street corners aren’t all they’ve got. 


End file.
